


She Who Cleans the Settled Dust

by Shmiggles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Class Issues, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Gen, Gender Roles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 11:29:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12431889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shmiggles/pseuds/Shmiggles
Summary: The dust has settled, and now, as usual, it is up to Petunia to clean it up.





	She Who Cleans the Settled Dust

The dust has settled, and now, as usual, it is up to Petunia to clean it up.

It covers every vaguely horizontal surface in their home, and it hangs heavy in the air in every exchange of words in their family. They had a fancy name for it at school: _personification_ or _pathetic fallacy_ or something. Her father would have called it _kicking you when you’re down_.

As far as Cokeworth went, Petunia had a privileged upbringing: her father had not been an alcoholic, she was well-fed, clean and well-presented, and she had more than sufficient spending money. While her sister was away at school, Petunia had all of her parents’ attention, but each fortnight, when Lily’s letter arrived, she was again reminded that _Lily could do magic_ and _she_ _couldn’t_.

Laying awake at night, she hatched her own plan for greatness: Lily was going to be a witch, but Petunia was going to be _middle-class_. She listened to the news on the radio each night, listening avidly to the newsreader’s intonation, and took secretarial classes. Her parents were justifiably proud of her when, on completion of her O-levels, she gained a job at the Grunnings  & Grunnings Drill Company.

Petunia Evans was made secretary to a young account executive, Vernon Dursley. He was well-built, and she looked up to him as a leader of men: his subordinates certainly were prompt with following his directions. He was a man of principle, and often made a hash of things with both clients and colleagues.

When the dust had settled, and Mr. Dursley was fuming because of the dressing down he invariably received (although he was never dismissed; as the son of a junior partner he was immune), it was down to Petunia to clear up his foul mood and get him back on the job.

At the office Christmas party, he got drunk and kissed her. His colleagues shamed him into buying her lunch, and he was rather taken with her. Petunia, of course, was all ready smitten.

After a brief courtship, they got married—in a church, although no one in attendance was in any way religious—and moved to Surrey. Petunia’s parents were not overly fond of Vernon, but he was her choice, and they respected that.

They had a simple marriage, and they performed their simple rôles: Vernon provided for her, and Petunia kept his house and looked after him. As they ate dinner, Petunia would ask Vernon how his day went, and he would inform her of all the humdrum happenings in the office, as though she had never been there before. He never asked her how she filled her days.

He still said things that he oughtn’t have to his clients, and again, when the dust settled at work, it was Petunia who put him back together again.

When Dudley came along, he proved to be a handful. Like all babies, when he wanted something, he wanted it _immediately_. Vernon did not appreciate this behaviour, since he was much the same. When he would throw a tantrum, Vernon would simply look at her, as if to say, ‘This is _your_ problem: deal with it.’ And so, when the food and toys had settled, it was Petunia who cleaned it up.

In the winter of 1980–1981, her parents passed away, both of them, from pneumonia. Lily was unable to leave her house, due to some imaginary civil war or some other nonsense, and so it fell to Petunia to make the arrangements. Lily didn’t even attend the funerals.

Then Lily was dead, and Petunia had to raise _Harry_ as well as Dudley. Of course, _Harry_ was one of _them_ , and so whenever he was upset, there would be some catastrophe. And when it was all over, it was Petunia who would clean up the mess, or apologise to the now-blue-haired teacher. Vernon shirked all responsibility for the boy.

By the time _Harry_ went off to Hogwarts, Dudley was off to Smeltings, and Petunia felt robbed. Where had all the time gone? Dealing with _Harry_ had taken up all of her time: she had nearly missed Dudley’s childhood. Not only had she missed his development, but he had missed her attentions: he was a distant and aloof adolescent, sharing far less with his mother than Petunia had with hers. She saw him at Christmas—the family’s only time together—but having been deprived of his mother’s affections, Dudley was chiefly concerned with the material aspect of the holiday. Christmas mornings consisted of Dudley tearing reams of paper from lavish gifts, before disappearing to his bedroom with his loot. Vernon and Petunia would exchange their own presents—never too distant a departure from earrings and ties—before Vernon returned to the kitchen for a second breakfast. Petunia was left to collect the scraps of coloured paper.

The summer of Dudley’s twelfth birthday, it was Petunia who calmed Vernon after _Harry’s_ departure by flying motor car. When some of _those people_ had deflated Marjorie, it was Petunia who prevented Vernon from exploding from sheer rage. When Dudley was tricked into eating those cursed lollies, it was Petunia who took the initiative to prevent Dudley from choking on his own tongue, and it was Petunia who prevented Vernon from picking a fight with a sorcerer. When Dudley was attacked by a Dementor, it was Petunia who nursed him back to health, despite not knowing the nature of his condition, and it was Petunia who prevented Vernon from writing a letter to the _Daily Mail_ to complain about the non-existence of the Lawn Competition.

During their forced exile, it was Petunia who kept the peace between Vernon and their guardians.

His time at Smeltings had somehow caused Dudley to become more and more distant from his parents, and in their exile, he formed something of a _friendship_ with those charlatans. Vernon kept away from them as much as possible, and Petunia dithered between the men of her family: trying to maintain a protective distance from the magical folk while trying to rescue her Dudders from their grasp. Whenever _those people_ mentioned anything that was going on in _their world_ , Vernon would become enraged, and Petunia would have to calm him down. Dudley sat off to the side, lapping up any information he could.

Vernon has returned to work and Dudley is out looking for a job. Petunia ponders the past forty years as she meticulously runs her feather duster over every vaguely horizontal surface in the house. Petunia had bettered herself; she had achieved what no-one else in Cokeworth had, and yet it was Lily whom Mum and Dad had referred to as ‘special’. Lily’s life was quite literally magical, and yet she had gone and squandered it; she died at the age of just twenty, and left her sister to deal with the aftermath.

Vernon is the same as he ever was, but Dudley. . . Dudley has changed. Far from being utterly oblivious to the great concerns of the nation, like any young man who wanted to enjoy his life was, Dudley read the newspapers—and not the _Daily Mail_ or the _Daily Telegraph_ , no, Dudley read the _Independent_ and even the _Guardian_! He talked about _Harry_ , how he was _part of the family_ and how he had _saved us all_. (The fact that we were involved in it purely because of _Harry_ seemed beyond him.)

Dudley and Vernon have great rows over dinner, and as much as she wants to force Dudley to see that there is nothing of value or worth amongst _those_ _people_ , she can never bear to add more strife to the remains of her family. Each meal ends, and her husband and son retire to their respective parts of the house, smouldering over an issue over which neither exercises any control.

Petunia clears away the scraps of their repast, and as she does so, she contemplates yet more cleaning: her work is never done.


End file.
